


The Seduction

by lyrawinter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27451435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: “I don’t know why I’m here,” Sansa confessed. An employee had accompanied her to Petyr’s office and had closed the door after walking outside, leaving them (Petyr and Sansa) trapped there, in a room that now looked smaller than it really was. And Sansa was standing there, near the door, resisting the urge to turn around and pretend she’d never come here, while Petyr was still sitting at his desk, looking at her with a strange flicker in his eyes.It had been Margaery’s idea.
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	1. Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be completely honest: I felt like reading a steamy romance novel, so I started several ones but I couldn't get hooked on any of them so I decided to write a fic instead. 
> 
> In this chapter there's a brief mention of what Lysa did to Petyr in canon. It's the line that starts with _Sansa had tried to keep her composure as she listened to him_ in case you want to skip it.
> 
> In this chapter I've made some references to these books:
> 
>  _The Anatomy of Story_ by John Truby.
> 
>  _Mythology. The Voyage of the Hero_ by David Adams Leeming.
> 
>  _Wired by Story_ by Lisa Crow. 
> 
> Also, while I wrote this chapter I listened to _The Irrepressibles_ by In This Shirt. I think this song is perfect for a cathartic scene both in movies and books. It evokes so many emotions <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading! :-)

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Sansa confessed. An employee had accompanied her to Petyr’s office and had closed the door after walking outside, leaving them (Petyr and Sansa) trapped there, in a room that now looked smaller than it really was. And Sansa was standing there, near the door, resisting the urge to turn around and pretend she’d never come here, while Petyr was still sitting at his desk, looking at her with a strange flicker in his eyes.

It had been Margaery’s idea. Margaery had met Petyr at a party thrown by the deputy mayor of King’s Landing almost a decade ago. Sansa didn’t know what kind of friendship they had. It seemed they enjoyed each other’s company; Margaery had often told Sansa how funny and clever Petyr was, and apparently they loved teasing each other. However, Margaery and Petyr only met at parties thrown by others or at election campaigns and other business meetings. 

It was strange. Sansa had been certain that Margaery was attracted to him, so when she encouraged Sansa to seek Petyr’s services, Sansa hadn’t known how to react.

Petyr was the owner of The Silver Mockingbird, an escort agency. There was a wide range of escorts. Some people looked for an escort well-versed in a specific subject because either they wanted the escort to accompany them to a professional meeting and help them to carry conversation so they can make a good business deal, or just because they were passionate about that subject and wanted someone to talk about it. Other people looked for specific physical features. Some people needed someone to pose as their romantic partner for a while. Others wanted sex, sometimes after a good conversation. There were as many types of clients as escorts. People were complex. Sometimes they even didn’t know what they were exactly looking for. 

However, Petyr always seemed to know what they needed and he was happy to provide. At least, that was what Margaery said. Though according to her words, he’d never offered his personal services.

“Just visit him and see what happens,” Margaery had said enigmatically.

Sanda had never imagined she’d end up in an escort agency. She didn’t want to hire someone to spend time with her. Perhaps if she had an important business meeting and needed moral support from someone well-versed in the subject, she might have considered it. But she hadn’t. Her motives were absurd. She was just here because she’d run into him last week at a bookshop and they’d exchanged a few words. Nothing else. Margaery had showed up when Petyr was seeing Sansa off and she’d noticed something on Sansa’s face. That was how Margaery had come up with this utterly ridiculous idea.

“It’s alright.” Petyr spoke for the first time since Sansa had entered his office. His voice sounded soft, but it didn’t soothe her.

Slowly, he rose from his chair. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit. The color, dark gray, matched his temples and his stubble. Somehow, he looked more distant than last week, when they’d met. He didn’t wear a suit back then; perhaps that was the difference. Or perhaps it was because this wasn’t a casual encounter. Sansa had come to see him. And here, he was Mr Baelish, the owner of the escort agency.

What was he thinking right now? Her arrival hadn’t taken him by surprise. Margaery had told him that Sansa would be visiting him. But had he been surprised when Margaery told him? What did he think of Sansa? Was he disappointed in her?

 _Come on. He knows nothing about you. You have just met once!_ Sansa reminded herself. How could he be disappointed in her? Unless she’d given him a good impression on their first encounter last week.

_Shit._

“It’s alright,” he repeated, and began taking off his suit jacket, his movements unhurried. He put it on the back of the chair and unbuttoned the cuff buttons on his shirt. He looked completely calm, but Sansa didn’t know if it was a facade, a mask he used at work. She wished she could act so composed when she was nervous.

_Like now._

He met her eyes then and there was a change in his. For a moment, Sansa thought she’d seen something. Something that looked like bitterness. He rolled up his sleeves without averting his gaze from hers, and she felt a small tug at her chest. 

He didn’t want her to be here.

She shouldn’t be here. 

“I’m sorry, I should go,” she mumbled and turned around. It was pointless to try and justify herself. Deep down, she knew why she’d come here. 

*

_The book slipped from her hands._

_Shit. She bent down to pick it up when another person grabbed it. A man with gray-green eyes. His lips twitched when he read the title._

_“Mythology. The Voyage of the Hero.” He lifted his head to look at her and handed her the book. “It’s one of my favorite books on storytelling.”_

_“Me too. I read it from the library a few years ago, but I wanted to own a copy.” Sansa took the book from his hands. She didn’t know anyone who liked to read books on creative writing. Perhaps he was a professor, or a writer, or worked in the cinema industry. ”I’m trying to write a novel.”_

_She didn’t know why she’d told him. She was always careful when it came to reveal something too personal, and certainly writing a novel was something very personal. She hadn’t told anyone yet. She’d planned on waiting until she finished the first draft to tell her friends and family._

_But she’d just told him, a total stranger. Perhaps it was because he was a stranger. Or perhaps it was because he was in the storytelling section too. It felt good to meet someone interested in the art of telling stories._

_“Your first novel?”_

_“Yes,” she said. “I’ve written novellas, but I’ve never written something over 20000 words.”_

_“You just need to keep the tension for more pages. Create more trials and setbacks. Let the hero stay in the Underworld for a little longer.” A playful smirk crossed his lips when he said the last part._

_Sansa laughed. In Mythology. The voyage of the Hero, the hero died and entered the Underworld. before resurrecting._

_“Thank you for your advice. I’ll keep it in mind. Actually, I think I have never tried to write a long story because I find it hard to keep the tension. To raise the stakes.”_

_“Have you already defined the lie your main character believes? There might be several things your main character is wrong about but there must be a lie. The Lie. That’s what drives your character. They think they want something and make everything in their power to get it. But then, they miscalculate and make a terrible mistake, and find out they’ve losen what they really wanted. Everything should revolve around The Lie.”_

_“Oh.” That opened a new perspective. “I’ve defined what they wanted and what they feared, their strength and their weakness, but I hadn’t thought about a lie. That’s... that’s really enlightening.”_

_“I’m glad. Have you read Wired for Story by Lisa Cron?”_

_“No.”_

_“You might find it helpful too,” Petyr said. “In this book, the author analyzes how our brain works and uses this knowledge to try and figure out how to keep readers engaged throughout the whole story, how to trigger dopamine and left them wanting to pick your next book.” He turned to the shelf and his gaze traveled over the titles. “Ah, here it is.” He grabbed the book and handed it over to her. “Allow me,” he said, taking the first book so she could read the summary of Wired for Story._

_“Thank you.” Sansa offered him a smile before looking down at the book._

*

She knew why she’d come here. For the first time in her 22 years of life, she’d felt sexual attraction to someone. Yes, she’d found several boys cute or handsome, but she’d never wanted to kiss them or to have sex with them. She’d heard that some people needed to feel an emotional connection before feeling a physical one, but until last week she hadn’t been certain if this was what happened to her.

Now, she’d ruined any chance of getting to know him upon coming here.

“Wait.” Petyr’s voice stopped her. His voice sounded almost apologetic. Or had it been her imagination.

Slowly, she turned around. Petyr was still standing beside his desk, but the bitterness had disappeared from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” He tilted his head, his expression cautious. “You know nothing about my relationship with the Starks.”

“What?”

“I’m not surprised.” He shook his head. “Things didn’t end up well.” He motioned at the chair. “Please, take a seat. I’ll tell you what happened and then you’ll be able to decide whether you want to leave.”

*

No. This couldn’t be possible.

He’d been in love with her mother. He’d confessed his feelings to her before starting university. He’d had a fight with Brandon after her mother rejected him, and he’d ended up in the hospital with a deep cut on his chest.

Sansa had tried to keep her composure as she listened to him, but she’d broken down when he told her that, before his fight with Brandon, Lysa had tried to force herself on him at a party while he was drunk. Thankfully someone had showed up before she could do so.

Lysa had always been cruel to her, but she’d never imagined she was able to do something so vile. 

“I’m so sorry,” she wiped her tears with her hands and breathed in.

“It happened over twenty years ago. The past is gone for good.” He managed an emotionless tone, but Sansa knew better.

The past had resurfaced now, in this room. She’d brought it back.

“Gods, I shouldn’t have come here.” She stood up. After what her aunt had been about to do… Now she understood why he’d looked bitter. “I don’t know what Margaery told you, but I would never… I would never pay for sex.”

“I know.” He also rose to his feet and approached her. “Margaery told me that you enjoyed talking with me and wanted to see me again.”

Sansa blinked.

“She only said that?”

“Yes.” Petyr stood in front of her and lifted a hand. “Only that.”

Sansa shivered when he wiped her cheek with his thumb gently. His touch soothed her. The tension in her body vanished.

Sansa hadn’t told Margaery that she’d never felt sexual attraction before. She’d like to keep it for herself for now.

“We should go to a more informal place,” he murmured, his thumb still caressing her face. “That’s it, if you still want to get to know me.”

Sansa breathed out a sigh of relief. A smile tugged at her lips. She hadn’t ruined this after all.

“Yes, I’d like to.”


	2. Petyr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos on the first chapter! :-)

Their first encounter had been casual. He wasn’t looking for a specific book; he just wanted to take a look at the new releases.

At first, he hadn’t paid her any mind. He’d given a glance at her before focusing on the titles on the shelf. But the thud had made him return his attention to her. The book she was holding had slipped from her hands. Petyr, the perfect gentleman, had picked it up and handed it over to her. His eyes had fallen upon the title. _Mythology: The Voyage of the Hero._ It was one of his favorite books, and he had mentioned it. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t trying to start a conversation, not really. But then she’d told him that she wanted to write a novel and found it hard to keep the tension, and he had been unable to help himself. He’d always liked stories but he didn’t really understand their power until he studied Political Science at the university. Understanding the power of storytelling was to understand the psyche, and understanding the psyche made it easier to predict others’ moves. 

Predicting others’ moves was a way to gain power. The power to prevent people from hurting you. The knowledge of how to plant an idea in someone’s mind. However he needed to know the different pieces : he needed to know what their deepest desires were and what they feared. This was usually connected to bad experiences: humiliation, failure, rejection. No one wanted to live those experiences again. No one wanted to feel like they’d gone back to the past, when they knew less about the world and when others could hurt them more easily, so people made decisions to ensure that wouldn’t happen. 

Knowing others’ weakness was power. That was why Petyr owned an escort agency. Their employees were his spies. Of course, they weren’t as perceptive as him, but he’d trained them well. They knew how to persuade their clients to tell them their secrets. Politicians, successful business men, actors, singers… People would be surprised to know how many seeked the services his escort agency could provide. They were rich and powerful, but most of them were bad players, and Petyr knew how to use that to his advantage,

Sansa, however… She had been an unexpected player. He’d had no intention to manipulate her. At first he didn’t know who she was. He thought this was a harmless conversation until Margaery showed up and made the introductions. Then, he learned that she was the daughter of Cat and Ned Stark. A red flag. Petyr had known that he must avoid a second encounter. 

But then, he’d received Margaery’s call. Petyr had told Sansa the truth. Margaery only mentioned that Sansa had enjoyed talking with him. However, Petyr hadn’t told Sansa that her friend hadn’t managed to convince him to set an appointment in his office. He’d said no. The idea that Sansa could be the player that brought him to the past, the past where he was a boy with his head full of songs, a piece, had been stronger than his curiosity. He didn’t know what Sansa wanted from him, what did she expect from a second encounter, but he’d thought that sometimes it was best not to know.

However, he’d received a visit shortly after hanging up. 

Varys. Probably the best player aside from him. That made him the most dangerous man of all, but Petyr had never been able to refuse the challenges he set. The rush of adrenaline upon playing with a worthy opponent. The release of dopamine every time he went one step ahead.

Varys was a member of the Council of Whispers, the secret service of King’s Landing. In the past, he’d tried to persuade Petyr to join the Council, but Petyr didn’t want to work for anyone. It was one thing to do the mayor’s wife, Cersei, some favours privately, but it was a different thing to be a member of the Council Whispers with its rules and hierarchy. No, Petyr liked to work alone.

“We have to talk,” Vary said solemnly. 

“Hi, I’m also glad to see you,” Petyr joked before stepping aside.

Varys gave him a stern look.

“This is serious.”

“Okay.” Varys was always serious, so it didn’t come as a surprise. “Please, take a seat.”

Varys sat on the sofa, with his legs closed together and his shoulder hunched over. Petyr raised an eyebrow. Varys looked more tense than in their previous encounters throughout the years. 

“I’m intrigued,” he said as he sat down, leaving a space between them.

“A member of the Council saw you with Sansa in a bookshop.” Varys said.

Petyr didn’t move. He managed to keep an unreadable expression on his face. He’d never told him about his unrequited love and about his fight with Brandon, but he supposed he knew. The Council of Whispers must have investigated his life, and they must have a list with all his mistakes.

Had Varys come here to blackmail him? Petyr waited for him to elaborate further, but the man remained silent. Petyr sighed.

“Okay. And that’s relevant because…”

“We’ve been following her for the past few weeks,” Varys replied “His father, Ned Stark, is a private detective.”

Petyr didn’t know that.

“Stannis has hired his services.” Varys added and inhaled deeply. His tone grew somber: “Stannis thinks someone killed Jon Arryn.”

Jon Arryn had been the deputy mayor of king’s Landing until two months ago, when he was found dead in his bedroom. His death was considered a natural death, so there was no investigation. Petyr had suspected that someone had poisoned him. Some poisons were undetectable. But he had no evidence. Now Petyr was almost certain that he'd been correct. Stannis would never cover up a crime, not even one committed by his own family.

He tilted his head and studied Vary’s face. He looked uncomfortable… conflicted. Petyr could see his inner struggle as he remained there, sitting on Petyr’s sofa.

“You know Stannis’ suspicions are right."

Varys stirred in his seat. He tried to keep eye contact, but failed.

“I don’t condone his death, but there’s nothing we can do to bring him back to life. Now we must focus on preserving the order and safety of the nation.”

“So the mayor and his wife are involved in his death. Or only the mayor’s wife,” Petyr corrected himself when he saw Varys swallow thickly. 

Cersei always asked him for favours behind his husband’s back so it was reasonable to think that Robert had nothing to do with Jon Arrys’ death. 

Varys cleared his throat and looked him in the eye.

“I’m not here to spread gossip. I’m here to prevent further damage. We mustn’t allow Ned to continue his investigations. Any little piece of information he finds might unleash the chaos. We cannot let it happen.”

“And what do you suggest?”

Petyr knew this was the moment Varys had been dreading.

“Ned is loyal to his family. He’d never let any harm come to his wife or his sons and daughters.” He grimaced when he said the last part.

_His daughter. Sansa._

“Stop digressing and tell me what you want me to do.”

Varys closed his eyes.

“We think… We think Ned will stop investigating to prevent any scandal concerning his elder daughter from coming to light. But the problem is, we haven’t found any scandal.” Varys looked at him. He wanted Petyr to finish the sentence for him, Petyr could tell. But he wasn’t going to grant his wish. If Varys had agreed to this, he must be able to speak the words aloud.

“Go on.”

Varys let out his breath.

“Perhaps you might be able to find out about her dirty laundry. But in case, we’re correct and Sansa is completely honorable, you’d have to concoct a scandal.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Petyr asked, his tone mockingly sweet. Varys had always considered himself a righteous man; this was the lie he told himself to justify his actions. But now, he was struggling. He was asking Petyr to seduce an innocent girl and lay a trap for her. If he was asking that of Petyr, the least he could do was to speak plainly. 

“I don’t know. You’re a persuasive man. You can choose the best method.” Varys stood up. He seemed in a hurry to leave. “I’ll give you some time to decide.”

“How kind of you.”

Varys ignored his sarcasm.

“Call me when you’ve made your decision.”

Petyr remained still for several minutes after Varys left. This was his opportunity to avenge himself. To give back some of the pain Ned and Brandon and Cat and Lysa had caused him.

And it was also his opportunity to enjoy Sansa’s company for a little longer, until he couldn’t keep his charade any longer; until the final blow.

He was certain it would be rather enjoyable to seduce Ned’s daughter. He just needed to keep the boy full of songs buried deeply, just like he’d been doing for the past 20 years. Under no circumstances he must develop feelings for her.

Falling in love had been his downfall once.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

He took his phone and called Margaery.


End file.
